Before

When she woke this time her eyes fluttered open with ease. There was light, which was a strong difference from before though she wasn't sure that was a good thing. As soon as she moved a minuscule amount, a booming voice hit her ears, letting the splitting migraine she had be known.

"Oh, Beth, you're finally awake! I'll get Dr Edwards!"

She recognized the voice but couldn't quite place it. Her mind felt like it's been jumbled in the dryer and then beat to remove the wrinkles. The throbbing pain helped to distract any thoughts as well, and she squeezed her eyes shut in a failed attempt to lessen it.

Her ears rung as well, a pitched screech that had to be worsening the headache. She didn't hear the scrap of a wooden chair against the floor as her observer moved away from her bedside, nor his hurried footsteps down the hall.

It was only when someone grasped her wrist that she registered that someone was trying to talk to her. Steven Edwards gradually raised the tone of his voice unsure of if his patient could hear him. While the hospital did still have nearly all of its resources, he couldn't be sure of the amount of brain damage or functionality she'd have until she awoke.

Beth jerked her arm away only to be stopped by soft restraints blocking her movement. It made her panic to know that they'd tied her down like this, again .

She grimaced as she tried to focus on opening her eyes again, fighting through the pain she wished would numb. She blinked, tears rolling down from the crevice of her eyes as she attempted to focus on the blob of a human standing over her. He must have known what she was doing because he said, "Don't strain your eyes, it may take some time for your vision to return."

She must have visibly relaxed, as he then said, "So you can understand me. Good."

The hand on her arm disappeared as what she assumed to be a clipboard appeared, and he began taking notes. He continued to talk to her as he wrote whatever it was that was going in her chart. "You've been in a medically induced coma for three months so that you could heal." The bastard chose that moment to shine his light directly into her eyes, and pain exploded within the recesses on her mind. She'd stab him if she could.

"We took a CT scan on the first day, and one again a week ago. Your progress looked good and there were very few signs of damage, so I thought it best to wean you from the medication and see if you'd wake up on your own. You started breathing over the ventilator last night so we removed it. Your throat might feel sore for a few days."

Her throat was the least of her pains, of course.

He paused to continue writing, she assumed, but it hardly mattered as she was already reaching the point where she'd like to sleep again. He nearly startled her when he asked his first question. "Can you try to say something?"

It didn't quite come out the way she'd intended, but she hoped he got the gist of it. "Fuh-oo"

Now

It wasn't often that she left the city anymore; it was rare for any Councilor to do so. Why would they when they had loyal soldiers ready to go at a moments notice?

Loyal. It was, naturally, an admirable trait. The real trick was to find out who it had been given to. She thought that Rick Grimes had finally given himself over to the CRM and their mission, her mission, until his wife made her appearance. It only further proved the point she'd concluded during her time here.

Family makes you weak. Family makes you dishonest, hopeful. Family can only serve to disappoint you.

It was nearly dinner time by the time the helicopters touch down inside the safe zone, but she knew if she waited until the morning she would be up all night anyway. As soon as her feet touched solid ground again, her assistant fell into step slightly behind and to the left of her. They walked at a brisk pace towards the building that served as headquarters for the CRM's army.

It was a warehouse in its past life; its muted brick walls and location the main reasons it was chosen. The interior was quickly remodeled to suit their need once they established their intentions for it.

It was her idea, to keep the civilians and the soldiers separate from each other. Different types of people with overall different agendas did not need to commingle the way they did at Grady. Even when serving a higher cause, those with subtle, but noticeable predilections towards positions of power did not need to be those who were only looking for a way to survive.

It was one of the first suggestions she'd made after arriving. The first clue that perhaps she wasn't just a tiny girl with a broken face.

Her assistant kept quiet until they reached the hall that lead to the Major General's office. Officer Amanda Shepherd proved shortly after the death of her superior officer that she was not, in fact, a superior officer herself. The former officer was more than happy to live the life of a dependent after serving at the CRM.

Ever one to hold a grudge, the Councilor had her appointed to her staff as soon as she was able.

"Major General Beale is very interested in what your plans are for Grimes and Bethune, ma'am. He asked if he could be present for their interrogation by the Council."

The younger woman fought back an eyeroll. "He can ask me himself then." She pushed forward down the hall, leaving the other woman behind, and enter the office without knocking.

If he wasn't ready for her then that was his problem.

Beale was used to her antics and didn't flinch as his door was thrown open before it fell shut behind her. He was probably one of her closest allies here, and one of the only members of the army's high command who knew about her previous attachment to both Grimes'.

He was, like her, under the impression that with time, Grimes would fall in line and learn to accept the CRM's mission.

They were both wrong, apparently.

"Which one will you be speaking with first?" he wondered aloud, skipping pleasantries. They weren't necessary and she appreciated that he knew that.

She'd thought it over on the ride here, flipping back and forth between the two options. "Michonne. She's hasn't been here as long to see who we really are and why we fight so hard for what we have. It'll take longer before she accepts it." She steps further into his office to glance at the tinkers he has displayed. The sword is new, here, and proudly hanging above his desk.

"And letting Grimes sweat it out for a while won't hurt either." This is what she liked about him. He played chess with her while others were still learning to play checkers.

She nodded. "I assume you'd like to observe?"

"Of course. Thorne would like to as well. She's friendly with Grimes but she is loyal to the mission." He stopped for a brief moment causing her to turn around and focus on him again. "Murray has volunteered to sit in as the second member of the Council. I'm sure you're not surprised."

She's not. Roger Murray has been her biggest opponent since her arrival at the CRM, likely due to the fact that she runs it better than he did. Sure, he started the Civic Republic, but she made it into what it is now.

"Mhm," she responded, without care. There was very little his presence could do to affect her. The Council and members of High Command were all aware of her past. They were all aware of who she was and what she was capable of. What she was determined to build here. This place was her vision. Her ideas, her strategy. That's why they chose her to sit on the Council in the first place. The Council she formed. "They should have them secured by now," she said as she moved toward the door.

"Have you eaten?" His familiarity with her eating habits (or lack thereof) often annoyed her. He knew this.

She walked out the door.